


Twenty-One

by oolaloolaloo



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-15
Updated: 2017-01-15
Packaged: 2018-09-17 18:26:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9337523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oolaloolaloo/pseuds/oolaloolaloo
Summary: No plot really. Just a short look into Dean's mind as he thinks about the reader.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Contains mild smut and angst/self-loathing

Twenty-one, he tells himself. She’s twenty-one. Old enough to make her own choices, to know what she wants, right? She’s technically an adult, and in the six months he’s known her, he’s never really viewed her as a child, but still, she’s twenty-one. It’s one thing for him to pick up a twenty-one year old in a bar. They’re young and eager, often gullible – and, God, do they have stamina – but somehow it’s different with her. She’s young and energetic, sure, and she no doubt has the stamina of her peers, and he has no problem getting himself off to her: imagining how she’d look with her soft, pink lips wrapped around his cock, the sinful noises she’d make as he fucked her with his mouth, the silky way her skin would slide against his, both of them covered in a light sheen of sweat as he buried his cock deep inside of her. But when all is said and done, when his muscles stop trembling and the come on his stomach grows cold, when the high is gone and the post-orgasm glow has faded, the guilt sets in. That knot in his stomach, the one that makes him sick, makes him hate himself even more than he already does – as if that’s even possible.  


He’s not sure why he feels so guilty when he thinks about her. Maybe it’s because he feels responsible for her. Maybe it’s because he knows in his heart that someone like her – someone so full of passion and energy, with her whole life ahead of her – someone like her could never want to be with someone like him: damaged, broken, poison. Maybe it’s because she seems so whole and unburdened, innocent even. She’s definitely not a virgin, of that he’s sure, but he’s also never seen her take anyone home from a bar. He tells himself that the guilt stems from wanting to fuck someone young enough to be his daughter, that all he feels for her is lust: boiling, unbridled, unadulterated lust. There’s nothing more because there can’t be. He can’t have feelings for her. He’s Dean Winchester. He makes women fall for him, gives them a night they’ll never forget and then disappears before feelings ever even have a chance to think about developing. He does not fall for women.  


Still, even as he tells himself it’s nothing, he knows deep down that he’s screwed. He’s fallen for her. He’s fallen for her laugh, her smile, her mind – her beautiful, brilliant mind. He’s fallen for the way she takes care of him, the way she never pressures him to open up, the way she never asks him to be anything more than what he already is. He’s fallen for all of her, and there’s no way he can ever go back. He knows he can never act on these feelings. He can never take advantage of her youth, her eagerness, her soft spot for him. He can never do that to her. After all, she’s only twenty-one.


End file.
